You rape us, you torture us, you do everything to kill our existence yet we are the ones who dare to bring you in this world. We bear the pain for days and months. We go through many uncomfortable phases. We carry you inside for nine months. We hold your hand till you achieve the strength to stand. And we embrace you till our last breath.
The heaviness, the bloated belly, the morning sickness, we take it all. One life nurtures another life. The feeling of motherhood gives courage to happily live with the pain, but we don’t know who would you turn out to be. Will you be the sunshine or a dark black night? Will you protect us or will you be the one to push us into the fires of hell. We really don’t know.
Only thing that worries us is that you should grow and grow happily. At every step, we sacrifice. Motherhood is a feeling that comes with the servanthood –
staying awake and nursing your baby whole night, crying bitterly when your child gets a cold and what not.
You may not know, but we feel ashamed when you harm us because you are a part of us.
All of us might not have the courage to tell you, but we really hate it when you consider us mere sex objects. We hate your eyes which hold nothing in them but the unending lust. You blame us for our clothing, you say a woman wearing small dress excites you? But what about small children? How do they prompt you to do such things with them?
We doubt our fathers, our brothers, and our uncles. We doubt the rickshawwallas, the drivers, the lovers and the bosses. We doubt every man. We don’t know when they would turn into beasts.
We prefer to remain in our houses and suffocate our heart and soul. The thought of falling prey to a man’s hunger gives us sleepless nights thus making us weaker inside.
Forget about the Government and its stupid laws but don’t you fear God? How can you be so cruel? And who gives you the right to trample our pride and our chastity.
Why is it always ‘we’ who are subjected to tests? Why not men? Why can’t they be the victims and why can’t their faces be distorted and their bodies mutilated?
The investigations and court decisions may help some, but there are many who have died with this grudge of not being given justice. I hear the voices of many Nirbhayas today also. They still demand justice. They still bleed and they still long for peace.
I know words are not going to change you, but this is the way of telling you to respect the feeling of motherhood. This is the way I can protest against the many damages that you do to our being. This is how I can show you the wretchedness of our hearts and this is how I can pacify the angry woman in me.
(Views expressed by author are personal)
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